


The Penitent One

by creepy_crawly



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_crawly/pseuds/creepy_crawly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://shuukira.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://shuukira.livejournal.com/"></a><b>shuukira</b>’s First Birthday Celebration. And because life never seems to be done whumping Kira.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Penitent One

**Series Title:** The Penitent One  
 **Author:** [](http://creepy-crawly.livejournal.com/profile)[**creepy_crawly**](http://creepy-crawly.livejournal.com/)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** ShuuKira  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** Yaoi  
 **Disclaimer:** No own. No money. No shame.  
 **Summary:** For [](http://shuukira.livejournal.com/profile)[**shuukira**](http://shuukira.livejournal.com/)’s First Birthday Celebration. And because life never seems to be done whumping Kira.

Kira awoke in darkness, hearing only the sound of the wind whispering through the trees. He could feel rough fabric over his eyes and around his face, and could feel it constricting his arms and upper body. The last thing he could remember, before the darkness, was a brilliant white light and brain, needle-sharp pain lancing through his body. From that, and from the soft scent that surrounded him, Kira knew he was in the Fourth Division.

As he slowly came more and more awake, pain began to burn along his nerves. Lines of fire began to light up along his body, blazing in his nerves. It was all Kira could do to keep from arching, screaming, trying to claw the fire out of his skin. As it was, he began to breathe quickly, hyperventilating, even, his heart racing ever faster. Beside his head, an alarm began to scream. Already screaming in his own head, Kira did not hear the feet racing down the hallway, nor the door rattling open in its track.

Cool hands were placed on his forehead, and another pair yanked the blanket down, exposing his body. Cool hands settled on his chest, on his belly, and all along his legs and arms. They pumped calm, soothing ice along the fire, and Kira wanted to weep for relief.

“Shh,” Unohana whispered. Her voice came from right beside his head. “It’s venom…the Hollow got you. You’re in the Fourth Division.”

Her voice was like water, soothing and settling. Her hands were soft where they stroked his face, brushing his hair off his cheek. Kira turned slightly towards her, letting her know that he was paying attention.

“Now, what we’re doing will make you very tired,” Unohana continued softly. “We’ll wait until you’re asleep to change the bandages, alright? So just relax, Kira-fukutaichou.” Her hands swept over his face, fingers trailing along the paths of the bandages. “Sleep.”

Lulled and calmed by the steady pulse of reiatsu from five different healers, freezing the fire and soothing the sting, Kira fell asleep.

\----

“Good morning, Kira-fukutaichou,” Unohana murmured. “Are you in any pain?”

“A little,” he croaked, his throat dry. “But…not as bad…”

“That’s good,” she said quietly. Papers rustled in her grasp, and there was the distinctive sound of a pen scratching on paper. “We have done as much healing as we are able. At this point, we have to wait for time and yourself to purge the rest of the poison from your reiatsu. This morning, if you feel up to it, I’d like you to take a moment and to meditate, to communicate with Wabisuke.”

“Of course, Unohana-taichou,” Kira agreed.

“Good,” Unohana replied. Her smile was audible. “In a few days, we’ll see about removing most of the bandages. The ones on your legs came off last night, while you were asleep. We want to wait a little longer for the ones on your torso, however, and the ones on your face and head will take the longest to heal fully. Also, I intend to keep your hands bandaged until I know you won’t have a relapse.”

“Why…why are my hands…” Kira began.

Unohana shuffled her papers once more. “We bandaged your hands, because when you came in, you were trying to tear your skin off. It’s counterintuitive to healing.”

“Ah,” Kira replied, smiling a little. “That it is.”

“Very well, then,” Unohana murmured. “I shall leave you to your meditation. If you tire, please, rest. We don’t want you to push yourself too hard. Take your time, and go slowly.”

“I will, Unohana-taichou,” Kira assured her.

“Good,” she said. She placed a cool hand on his shoulder, and then her shihakusho rustled as she rose to her feet. “I’ll be in later.”

\----

With one hand on the wall to brace himself, Kira stepped forward slowly. His legs shook and the muscles in his stomach radiated a dull ache, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t work through. The faster he could walk the length of the hall by himself, the faster he would get out the Fourth Division.

All of the bandages except the ones around his head had been removed. More specifically, only his eyes remained covered. Unohana had explained that venom had gotten into his eyes, and Kira had stopped her before she could continue. He knew that he was most likely blind from the venom at this point, but that didn’t stop him from hoping. Day in and day out, he meditated, spending time with Wabisuke, seeking to cleanse even the memory of the venom from his body.

Soon, though, Unohana would have to remove the bandages over his eyes. Then, and only then, would the truth be known.

Taking a deep breath, Kira took another step forward.

\----

“Unohana-taichou?” Hisagi asked, peering around the doorframe at the kindly captain.

She looked up and, seeing him, smiled. “Hisagi-fukutaichou,” she murmured. “I’m glad to see you. You’re here for Kira-fukutaichou?”

Hisagi nodded quickly. “I just got back from the Human Plane.”

“That’s good,” Unohana sighed, lifting a large, thick folder off of her desk. “Before we go in to see him, I need to warn you of something. Kira-san is very weak right now, because of the venom and the effects of it on his body. As you know, we had to keep him immobilized for some time, and much of his reiatsu was corrupted.

“That’s not the only problem facing Kira-san right now, unfortunately. When…when he first was brought in, he was clawing at the wounds he had, seeking to…tear the infected flesh from his body. That’s one of the reasons his wounds were so horrible, actually. He was tearing them open, wider, with his own fingers. And, unfortunately, some venom had gotten in his eyes.”

Hisagi gasped, feeling sick to his stomach, knowing what she was suggesting without even hearing it. “H-his eyes?” he stammered. “He-he didn’t…”

Unohana nodded slowly. “He did,” she said quietly. “I have yet to tell him, because he won’t let me. I think he probably knows, but is denying it. We tried to save his eyes, but…there was nothing that could be done. Instead, while he was unconscious, we went ahead and removed what was left and sewed them closed to heal. I have since removed the stitches while he was unconscious, but…well.”

“How bad does it look?” Hisagi asked.

“Surprisingly, not very bad at all,” Unohana answered. “We were able to seal his eyelids shut with very little effort, and the wounds from his fingernails healed without scarring. His eyes look a little…flat…but we can fix that later, if he wants us to. Other than that, the swelling has receded, and the bruising has faded.”

“Will he still be able to…to fight?”

“Most likely,” Unohana replied. “You, of course, are in a unique position to help him. As far as I am aware, of all of the shinigami, only you know exactly what Tousen-taichou used to compensate for his lack of vision. We at the Fourth Division can, of course, teach Kira-san to read Braille and various other compensatory techniques for a normal life, but…even we cannot teach him to fight again. That’s up to you, and him.”

Hisagi nodded, pensive.

Unohana smiled sadly. “Well, then. If you will follow me…”

\----

“It’s not the end,” Hisagi whispered, holding Kira tightly.

The blond man hadn’t spoken since Unohana had told him what had happened to his eyes, not even when Hisagi had sit down on the edge of the bed and pulled him close. He just sat there in silence, empty sockets and closed lids facing the blank wall. He was like a rag doll, limp in Hisagi’s arms, unmoving, uncaring.

Broken.

\----

“Does it still hurt?” Hisagi asked, helping the weak and tired Kira over to the bed.

“Just my eyes,” the blond sighed, not turning to face him. Finding the edge of the mattress with his fingertips, he sat down with another sigh, tired muscles glad for the reprieve. “The rest of it…no. Not anymore.”

“Do you want something for your eyes?” Hisagi asked, watching the other man slowly lie back. “Ice or something? I think we have willow bark still…”

“You used it up after your last training session before we went to the Human Plane,” Kira replied, feeling exhaustedly for the blanket. “I’m fine, Shuu. Really.”

“I just…I worry about you, Izuru,” Hisagi replied quietly, taking the edge of the quilt and pulling it up to cover the other man, smoothing it over his chest.

“Because I’m weak?” the blond snapped. “Because I’m blind?” He twisted on his side, face set in an angry glare, flat and empty eyelids staring just above the tattooed man’s shoulder.

“Because I love you!” Hisagi shot back. “Because you’ve been injured! Because you are my life, and you’re suffering, and I can’t fix it!” Weakly, he slumped down to sit on the edge of the bed, tears starting to fall from his dark eyes. Reaching up, he covered his face with one hand as he began to sob, the other searching out Kira’s hand. When he found it, he wove their fingers together, squeezing the blond’s hand tightly. “I love you, Izuru,” he whispered.

Kira was silent for a moment, stunned. Then, carefully, he sat up and searched for Hisagi’s face, trailing his fingertips up the other man’s arm to his shoulder, and then searching out his neck and the curve of his jaw. Feeling the wetness streaking the older man’s face, he turned to him, wondering. “Are…are you crying, Shuuhei?”

“Yes, you fool,” Hisagi answered, his voice thick and rough. He moved his own hand from his face, and caught Kira’s wandering hand. Carefully, slowly, he lifted it, and let the other man feel the tracks of tears upon his face. “I’m crying for _you_ ,” he whispered.

“Shuuhei?” Kira asked, his voice weak and scared.

“You will never be weak!” Hisagi hissed suddenly, pushing Kira back against the pillows, trapping his wrists. “Never!”

Beneath him, Kira could only freeze in surprise until, slowly, oh-so-slowly, a smile began to creep along his face. Twisting his wrists, he slid his hands down to mesh with Hisagi’s.

“Never,” he whispered.

\----

“This is too time-consuming,” Kira grumped, setting aside the report he had been reading. “I’m less than halfway through!”

Beside him, Hisagi looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“This report! Isane-san’s been teaching me to read Braille properly, but this is taking too long!!” Kira complained, flopping his head down on his folded arms. “I’m never going to be able to do this! There’s no way I can keep being a fukutaichou at this rate!”

“Lemme see it,” Hisagi murmured, reaching over and tugging the heavy paper out from beneath his lover’s elbow. Setting it flat in front of him, he placed his fingers on the first line.

Kira turned to face him, hearing calloused fingers racing along the lines of raised dots that had been driving him crazy. Hisagi’s fingers whispered over the paper faster than even his own, practice and familiarity giving the other man an edge. “How…?” he began.

Hisagi smiled, his fingers stopping but not coming up off of the page. “Tousen-taichou was blind, too, ‘Zu. I had to type all of my reports in Braille, and all of the lower seat reports had to be retyped in Braille. And I had to read his reports, in Braille, and write them up for everyone else. No offense to Isane-san, but I’m probably more familiar with Braille than she is. It’s just a matter of practice.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kira complained. “You’ve _got_ practice!”

“You will, too,” Hisagi soothed him, reaching over and stroking his shoulder. “There’s one thing that might make your report reading faster…shorthand.”

“There’s shorthand for Braille?”

“Maybe not officially, but you better believe Tousen-taichou and I used it,” Hisagi answered, smiling slightly. “With the number of reports I had to read and type and write every day…we invented a form of shorthand out of self-defense!”

\----

Kira held completely and totally still, his ears pricked for the slightest hint of sound. He _knew_ that Hisagi had to be _somewhere_ in the training room, but locating him was harder than it sounded. It was worse than blindfold training! At least in that situation, the blindness would lift eventually. Here, however, the darkness was deep and permanent, and his reliance on his ears was anything but temporary.

A rustling in a far corner drew his attention, and, lost in his thoughts, Kira snapped out with the bamboo blade in his hand, darting towards the sound. For the second, this was just one more blindfolded fight, and the feel of bamboo against his calloused palm was comfortingly real and stable. Though he longed for the familiar feel of Wabisuke, Kira could trust himself with the bamboo blade, remembered the swish and the give and knew a miscalculation could not injure Hisagi.

“Very good,” Hisagi chuckled, his voice dark and deep and smooth. “You almost had me…”

Eyes unconsciously narrowing, Kira whirled to where he heard his lover’s voice coming from. Hisagi was on the opposite side of the room! This wasn’t fair!

“This isn’t fair!” Kira snapped, his fingers tightening on the hilt of the bamboo blade. “How am I supposed to find you?” he demanded angrily. Frustration was starting to tighten his muscles, carving deep lines in his face. It also made his voice begin to peak.

“Patience, Izuru,” Hisagi murmured, relaxing his stance for a moment. “This will take you a while to learn. You’re getting there.”

“I can’t tell any difference!” Kira all but shouted. His limbs were trembling with tension, now, and he was ready to explode. He could feel anger—hot, irrational _anger_ —starting to burn throughout his body. Reaching up, he grabbed the muslin tied over his useless eyes and literally ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly beneath his fingers. He threw the useless shreds of fabric to the side, his breath coming hard and fast between tightly clenched teeth.

Hisagi smiled, silently resuming his stance. He’d been purposely staying just out of Kira’s grasp all day, waiting for the blond to reach his breaking point. It was difficult; Kira had an incredibly deep well of patience. Still, they had been working for several hours now, pausing occasionally for water and a breather. Hisagi had known that his lover would snap eventually, and it was what he was waiting for.

Raising his head suddenly, Kira lifted the bamboo blade straight in front of his face, reiatsu roaring up around him with the force of his anger. He forgot that he could not see his opponent, forgot that he did not hold Wabisuke, forgot that Hisagi had every advantage over him. All he knew was that he was _sick_ and _tired_ of being fooled with, of being teased, of being used as a _plaything_. He was a fukutaichou of the Thirteen Court Guards, gods curse it, and _he was no weakling!_

Hisagi watched, eyes narrowed, as Kira’s stance shifted, ever-so-subtly. Good. He had succeeded in making the other man forget what might hold him back, had triggered the fierce anger and pride that lurked behind his calm expression. He had made Kira angry, angry enough that he would attack without thought, would let his body handle the fight.

And that was what he needed, the darker man reflected, dodging a disturbingly well-aimed strike as quickly as he was able. Kira’s body knew its own limits, and it knew how far it could push itself. Kira had come to fear his own actions, his own body. Hisagi had to make him trust himself once more. It had been his goal the entire time, and it was the one thing he knew Kira needed more than anything.

Kira Izuru needed no coddling. He needed trust, and faith, and one strong push to get him moving.

And, even if it meant risking his own life and limbs to the blond man’s anger, Hisagi Shuuhei meant to be the one pushing him.

\----

“You fought incredibly well,” Hisagi murmured, pressing his thumbs into Kira’s shoulders. “I haven’t seen that level of fighting out of you since…since you broke up with Momo-chan.”

Kira winced. “I can’t believe I went after you like that,” he whispered, twisting his face on the soft pillow. “It’s…it’s inexcusable, to attack _you_ in anger like that…”

“No, it’s not,” Hisagi told him firmly, working on a hard knot. “You needed to attack _someone_ , Izuru, love, and you _know_ I can take it.” Gently, he swept his hands down the blond’s long, lithe torso, bringing them to rest on narrow hips. He leant over the other man, pressing his bare chest to the equally bare back. “It’s okay to be angry, ‘Zu.”

“I shouldn’t be angry at _you_ , though!” Kira protested, twisting as best he could beneath Hisagi’s weight. “It’s not _your_ fault that I’m…that…”

“That you’re blind?” Hisagi whispered in his ear, sliding his arms around the other man’s body, feeling the smooth slide of muscle beneath pale skin. “No, it’s not my fault. But it’s not _your_ fault, either. You shouldn’t hold all that anger in—you see how destructive it is, in the end.”

At that, Kira laughed dryly. “I’m afraid that Yamamoto-soutaichou will decide to bill us for damages to the gym,” he said quietly.

Hisagi snorted, tucking his head against Kira’s shoulder. “He won’t,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. “He’s too desperate to have you fighting again.” Smirking, he began to kiss the blond’s long, pale throat, tasting sweat and soap and water.

Kira arched beneath him, his fingers tracing up Hisagi’s scarred sides to find the ridges of his spine. He murmured encouragingly as they trickled down his lover’s spine, twisting to offer more of his sensitive throat to the other man. Discovering the rough line of the sweatpants Hisagi had pulled on after their shower, Kira slid his fingers under the waistband, finding more deliciously warm skin.

“You little minx,” Hisagi breathed against his collarbone. His tone was playful, and Kira could feel his smirk against his skin.

“Your little minx,” Kira corrected, sliding his hands all the way under the fabric and cupping Hisagi’s ass. Giving it a playful squeeze, he tugged the other man’s hips down against his own.

“Mine, indeed,” the dark, tattooed man chuckled breathlessly, before kissing him furiously.

Kira just melted beneath him, a delightful warmth flooding his body at the feeling of Hisagi’s body tangled with his own, warm skin against warm skin, pleasure the one thought on their minds.

\----

“I think I’m out of ink, Shuuhei,” Kira said suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness of the crowded office. Before he had spoken, the only sounds had been that of papers rustling and pens scratching.

Every capable fukutaichou in Seireitei was seated in the office, filling out evaluations and other paperwork for the end of the quarter. They all gathered in the large room, working together, collectively guilting each other into working through it all. Despite the disparity in their division numbers, Hisagi and Kira were seated next to each other, so that Hisagi could be certain that all of Kira’s brailled reports were attached to the proper typed ones at the end of the day.

“Hmm?” Hisagi asked, raising his head from his own paperwork. He looked over to where Kira had a curious finger dipped in his inkwell, then rose to his feet. “Yeah, you’re out. Hang on; I need to go get an ink stick out of supplies.”

“Don’t bother,” Matsumoto replied, raising a finger without looking up from the report she was reading. “I’ve got one right here.”

“Thank you, Matsumoto-san,” Kira said, smiling in her general direction.

“Yeah, thanks, Matsu,” Hisagi echoed, walking to her desk and taking the ink stick from her. He nodded to her, and then headed back to Kira’s desk. He quickly mixed the ink, and then lay the ink stick down. “Ink stick’s at 12:15,” he murmured to the blond, heading back to his own desk.

“Thank you, Shuuhei,” Kira murmured, treating him to a brilliant smile. Lifting his brush, he carefully dipped it in the inkwell, one finger staying on the line marked out for his signature. With the brush cradled in his hand, he brought it back to the paper and signed in a brilliant flourish, grateful that being a fukutaichou had left enough muscle memory for paperwork.

Clipping the reports together, Kira felt carefully for the stack of unread reports. Finding it, he removed one from the top of the stack and unclipped it, running a hand over the top line of both sheets. Each had a number Brailled on it, though the heavier paper held the raised dots much better. Satisfied that each was the same report, he settled the Braille report squarely in front of him and began to read, his fingers racing across the page.

Hisagi spared him a short, proud look before turning back to his own paperwork.

\----

“And, finally, we turn to the final item on the agenda,” Yamamoto said, his voice thunderous in the hall. “The discussion of captain selections for the Third, Fifth, and Ninth Divisions. We will start with the Ninth Division. Do I hear any nominations?”

“I nominate Hisagi Shuuhei, current fukutaichou of the Ninth Division and acting taichou of the same,” Byakuya said firmly.

“I second the nomination,” Ukitake said quickly.

“Four more captains must back up this nomination,” Yamamoto intoned.

“Has he achieved Bankai yet?” Shunsui asked, curious.

“He has,” Byakuya said, nodding. “He trains with my fukutaichou on a regular basis.”

“Then I, too, approve the nomination,” Shunsui said.

“I do, as well,” Hitsugaya said.

“And myself,” Mayuri added.

“And me, too,” Kenpachi grunted.

“Very well, then,” Yamamoto said. “Hisagi Shuuhei will sit the captaincy exams for Ninth Division. Next. Fifth Division?”

“Might I suggest we table the discussion of finding a captain for Fifth Division?” Unohana murmured. “We have yet to find a replacement for the current fukutaichou. And she does need a replacement. You have my report, Soutaichou, on her fitness to serve.”

“I do,” Yamamoto agreed heavily. “Very well. Third Division?”

“I nominate Kira Izuru, current fukutaichou of the Third Division and acting taichou of the same,” Hitsugaya said firmly.

“I second the nomination,” Komamura growled.

“I nominate Choujirou Sasakibe, current fukutaichou of the First Division,” Yamamoto said.

“Seconded,” Soi Fong called lazily. “How can Kira-fukutaichou serve as a captain?”

“As easily as Tousen served,” Komamura replied sharply. “He’s all but serving as a captain now.”

“He is acting captain,” Hitsugaya agreed, “and very powerful. Third Division has never run as efficiently as it is running now.”

“Kira-fukutaichou has kept the Third Division together, even after the betrayal of their former taichou,” Unohana murmured. “He has created it as a Division to have pride in, and has made it more powerful than it was before. And all that while suffering from Ichimaru Gin’s betrayal. I support the nomination of Kira Izuru.”

“He is still suffering from Ichimaru’s betrayal,” Soi Fong said swiftly. “Such emotional weakness…”

Unohana cut her off. “It’s not weakness,” she said sharply. “He is incredibly strong, and has lifted Third Division out of the dust on his own shoulders. He has not let his own mourning stop him from protecting his Division and his subordinates. That is the mark of a true captain.”

“But his blindness…”

“Has not stopped him,” Byakuya said smoothly. “You recall the damage to the training rooms, of course? He was the one who caused that—with a bamboo blade. Since he has resumed training with his Zanpakutou, the only one of his sparring partners he has yet to best is Kusajishi Yachiru. I, too, support the nomination of Kira Izuru for captain of the Third Division.”

“Based on what I’ve seen of his fights with Yachiru,” Kenpachi said suddenly, “I, for one, think he’s more than enough for that pansy division.”

“I support his nomination,” Shunsui said after a moment. “He _is_ powerful, clearly, and he’s shown a talent for running the division.”

“I, too, support the nomination of Kira Izuru,” Ukitake murmured, nodding quickly. “And…” he continued, looking around the chamber, “I believe that I am, in fact, the _seventh_ captain to do so.”

Yamamoto sighed. “Very well. Kira Izuru will sit the captaincy exams for the Third Division.”

\----

“Kira-taichou,” Hisagi whispered, his voice laughing. His hands were warm on the blond’s shoulders, and they felt lighter than the haori on his shoulders. Hisagi’s words were warm against his skin, and his hair was soft against Kira’s cheek.

“I…I can’t believe,” Kira began, stammering, stretching his hands back to try and find Hisagi’s hips.

“You should believe,” Hisagi replied seriously, pressing himself closer. His hands slid down from Kira’s shoulders to rest on his narrow hips, and he placed his chin on the other man’s shoulder. “I knew you could do it.”

“Maybe you knew, but I didn’t,” Kira retorted, reaching up to stroke Hisagi’s hair. Despite the spikes, it was startlingly soft beneath his hand, and he twined his fingers in the silky length. He could feel the narrow scars on his lover’s right cheek against his throat, and the cool metal of Hisagi’s earring trailed against the thin, sensitive skin. “I was so scared,” he admitted.

“Of what?” Hisagi asked, curious. His arms looped around Kira’s body, holding the blond against him comfortably.

The cool night breeze rustled through the trees, and it swept through Kira’s long bangs, caressing his face. It brought with it the scent of cherry blossoms, down in the courtyard, and a hint of rain. Kira took a deep breath, taking the clean air deep in his lungs, before answering.

“I was scared,” he said slowly, “of not being…good enough. Of not being enough for Third. They need me, Shuuhei, and if I failed…”

“Izuru,” Hisagi breathed in his ear, “you wouldn’t have. You couldn’t have. Third Division _does_ need you, and they need you because you can give them what they need. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

“But…” Kira began, weakly.

“No,” Hisagi replied softly. “You will be the best captain that the Third has ever had, and you will be _amazing_. Third needs somebody to lift their name from the dust, love, and you’ve already begun doing that.”

Gently, the tattooed man slid his hands under the haori, the heavy fabric still new and stiff to the touch. “Now,” he whispered, “let’s get this off of you, so you can get some sleep.” When the blond made no move of protest, Hisagi lifted the haori away, folding it over his own arm.

Kira could feel Hisagi’s eyes on the back of his neck, and he shivered slightly. Without the older man’s warm weight pressed against his back, twined around his body, the night air was suddenly quite chilly. Sighing slightly, he turned to face his lover. “You know where the hangers are, right?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” Hisagi replied, his smile making his words rounder and warmer to Kira’s ears. “What, you think I’m some sort of heathen?”

“No, just disorganized,” Kira muttered under his breath, double-checking where he was standing with quick fingers on the wall as he stepped inside the apartment he shared with the other man. He walked forward, sure now of where he was, and of where the furniture was. There were no rugs to trip over, and Hisagi was not the kind of person to rearrange the furniture.

Hisagi followed his lover into their bedroom, captain’s haori draped over his arm. As Kira lifted Wabisuke from his sash, the tattooed man found a free hanger and hung up the heavy jacket, sliding it into the blond’s side of the closet. Turning around, he found his lover sitting on the bed, fingers tracing the smooth lines of Wabisuke’s hilt, a contemplative look on his face.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

Kira turned his face towards him, startled. Then his face relaxed. “It’s funny,” he whispered. “It still feels like I’m apologizing for Ichimaru-taichou.”

“To who? For what?”

“To the other captains. To Seireitei,” Kira murmured. “For Ichimaru-taichou’s betrayal. For not knowing. For not being able to stop him.”

“You don’t owe them an apology, ‘Zu,” Hisagi said firmly, standing so close that their knees were pressed together. “They weren’t strong enough to stop him, either. And they had no clue. It’s not your fault.”

“Nor is it Third’s, but that’s never stopped anyone from taking it out on us!” Kira snapped back suddenly. “Nobody has any faith in the Third Division anymore, and there’s nothing we can do about it!”

“You are doing something about it, though,” Hisagi said sharply, folding his arms over his chest. The fabric of his shihakusho rustled. “ _You’re_ taking care of the Third. _You’re_ not letting anyone look down on them. _You’re_ healing them, returning their sense of worth. _You’re_ the one who’s made Third Division a force to be reckoned with, ‘Zu.”

“All I’m doing is _apologizing_!” Kira snapped, his facing heating with an angry flush. “I’m apologizing for Ichimaru, I’m apologizing for the betrayal, and I’m apologizing for the way they’re being treated! I’m not enough for them, Shuu! I am _not_ the one they need!”

“You are the _only_ one they need,” Hisagi replied, leaning forward until Kira instinctively leant back, falling backwards on the mattress. As Wabisuke slid to land beside him on the coverlet, the tattooed man straddled his hips, leaning forward to pin his wrists above his head in one strong hand. “You are the only one who can heal them, Izuru. _The only one!_ ”

Though he could not see it, Kira could feel Hisagi’s heavy gaze on his face. Ashamed, he turned his face aside, towards the direction he had heard Wabisuke fall. “What can _I_ possibly do for them?” he asked bitterly. “All I do is apologize, even when _he’s_ gone. Forever the Penitent One.”

“Forever the Strong One,” Hisagi returned, reaching with his free hand and turning Kira’s face up towards his own. “It takes a powerful man to bear the weight of another’s sins, Izuru, and you’re carrying the weight of _everyone’s_.” Leaning forward, still holding Kira’s jaw in his hand, he kissed the other man softly.

\----

“Ya’ve done good fer yerself,” Gin said, blade outstretched, reiatsu fair humming with power and strength. “I’m proud of ya.”

Standing stock-still, Wabisuke clutched so tightly he could feel his tendons straining, Kira said nothing.

“Silent as ya are blind, now, Izuru?” Gin asked, laughing slightly. “Afraid ta say somethin’?”

“Thinking of the proper response, _taichou_ ,” Kira gritted out, his jaw clenched. Consciously, he relaxed his fingers on Wabisuke’s hilt, feeling the preternatural calm settle over him slowly.

“Oh-ho!” Gin laughed. “Well, what would it be, then?”

“This,” Kira returned sharply. “RAISE YOUR HEAD, WABISUKE!”

His blade sang to life, barely-constrained energy humming with pure, angry _power_. Viciously, Kira struck forward, dodging the blow Gin had sent in his direction, parrying each of his former captain’s thrusts.

“Ya can’t _beat_ me, Izuru-kun!” Gin called. “Ya just ain’t _strong_ enough!”

Saying nothing, Kira instead parried the next blow, and then darted forward, striking back angrily. He could hear the whoosh of wind as the other man dodged, and could hear Wabisuke’s angry roar at being denied. _Just a moment,_ he promised the blade. _Just…give…me…time!_

“Anger won’t get me!” Gin yelled. “Anger can only hurt ya!”

Kira stopped, suddenly. His reiatsu roared up, louder and more powerful than ever before, Wabisuke fair _throbbing_ with energy. The angry grimace on his face was enough to give Gin pause, and the way he whipped the blade forward, straight in front of his face, only seemed to heighten the tension surrounding the battle.

\----

Far away, Hisagi paused, feeling the throb of energy as Wabisuke and Kira merged, perfect and powerful, less apologizing man and more avenging angel. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and returned to his own fight.

\----

Kira could feel the unsure pulse of Gin’s reiatsu, and it was all he could do to not smile.

“ _SEEK THE VENGEANCE YOU ARE OWED, WABISUKE!_ ,” the blond roared.

\----

The last thing Ichimaru Gin ever saw was the vicious smile on his former subordinate’s face. Then everything went dark, and, in terror, he felt his knees hit the ground, head bowed.

After that, the terror was so all-consuming, no more thoughts could process.

\----

“I love you,” Hisagi whispered, holding Kira’s thin face cupped in his hands. He pressed another soft kiss to the empty eyelids, and then dropped one on the end of his nose. “You are so beautiful, so strong, so amazing, Izuru. I love you.”

Kira fought down a shiver, his hands tightening on Hisagi’s wrists. He loved the way his name sounded, falling from Hisagi’s lips like that, thick and dark and rich. Hisagi’s voice rumbled deep and low in his chest, resonating between their close-pressed bodies, and his words surrounded the blond like a cloud. He couldn’t say anything in return, could only blush and try to duck his head.

Hisagi chuckled softly, keeping Kira’s face trapped right there. Feeling Kira’s hands tight on his wrists, he tilted the other’s face up the tiniest fraction and kissed him warmly.

Hisagi’s lips were warm against his own, and it was something Kira had been wanting to feel for _hours_. Releasing his lover’s wrists, Kira tangled his hands in Shuuhei’s hair, pulling the other man close against him, kissing him hungrily.

Hisagi never failed to be surprised at just how _fierce_ Kira could be, when he wanted to. This time was no different, and in no time flat, he was parting his lips beneath the blond’s, his hands flowing like water down Kira’s chest, meeting at the tight knot of his sash. Without further thought, he began to work furiously at the knot.

Kira could feel Hisagi’s hands at work on the knot of his sash, and rapidly slid his hands from the other man’s hair. Reaching down, he removed Wabisuke, placing the blade carefully on the couch. He searched Hisagi’s hips for a moment, located his zanpakutou, and placed it beside his own. Then, breaking the kiss, he smiled against the other man’s lips.

“Bedroom, Shuu,” he whispered.

Hisagi responded with a wordless groan, Kira’s sash slithering to the hardwood floors. Yanking the other man forward as his jacket gaped open, revealing pale, scarred, muscular chest, Hisagi kissed him like a man possessed. The kiss lasted only a moment before the tattooed man snagged both of the blond’s wandering hands and dragged him backwards down the hall, to the bedroom.

Once there, Hisagi paused for a moment to let Kira push him up against a wall, kissing him again. Even as the younger man devoured him, Hisagi’s hands slid up and down the naked chest, feeling the warmth of skin and odd, jagged bumps of the scars that striped it. A surge of desperate hunger raced through him, and he pushed his hands up to Kira’s shoulders, and then over them, pushing the jacket and haori off of his lover’s strong shoulders to his upper arms. When Kira obediently moved his arms, Hisagi shoved the heavy fabric to the floor.

It fell with a solid thump, but the sound barely registered in Kira’s ears, so consumed was he with the _taste_ and _feel_ of Hisagi’s mouth. Suddenly, he _needed_ Hisagi, needed him like he had never needed anything before. Starving, he quickly unknotted his lover’s sash, ripping it from his body and letting it fall where it would. As Hisagi’s jacket sagged open, the older man shrugged, still kissing him hungrily, letting the fabric slide from his body.

“Shuu,” Kira panted, breaking the kiss, light-headed. “Get these goddamned clothes _off_!”

“As the captain orders,” Hisagi chuckled, nuzzling the blond’s throat as he spoke. His hands slid down Kira’s long, lithe body, pausing briefly as he found the ties of his hakama. Quickly undoing Kira’s precise knots, he gave the fabric a helpful push as it fell to the floor. “Mmm, _taichou_ …” he breathed, a naughty smile curling his lips.

“I can hear that smile, you _perv_ ,” Kira laughed breathlessly, his thin fingers already working on Hisagi’s hakama. “Honestly!”

“You gonna do anything about it, ‘Zu?” Hisagi asked, stepping out of the puddle of his clothing.

“Oh, I plan to,” Kira promised, smirking. He paused for a moment, stretching one bare foot forward. “…if I can get away from here without tripping.”

Looking around, Hisagi noticed how they had scattered clothes all around. Fabric lay everywhere, all over the normally-clean floor of their bedroom.

“Oops?” he offered, laughing slightly. “Hang on, love.” Stepping forward, he slid an arm around the blond’s hips, and then heaved the other man into his arms.

Kira squeaked in a very undignified way, startled, and grabbed at Hisagi’s shoulders. “Shuuhei!” he gasped.

“Sorry, love,” Hisagi laughed, carrying him over to the bed. “But you breaking your nose would spoil the evening.”

As Hisagi lay him back against the bed, still laughing, Kira scowled. Reaching up, he swatted his lover lightly. “I’m not _that_ clumsy,” he muttered. Then, looping his legs around Hisagi’s hips, he grinned. “You are, though.”

Hisagi couldn’t help the strangled half-yelp that burst from his throat as Kira used powerful legs to yank him forward. He caught himself quickly, bracing his hands on either side of Kira’s grinning face.

“Clumsy, clumsy, Shuuhei!” Kira teased, his hands rising to embrace the tattooed man. “You’d best be careful. Spend the night on your back, you know. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“Minx,” Hisagi laughed.

Kira merely grinned.

 


End file.
